


To Crave

by AnotherStory



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Can I use the pheromones tag, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, I'm gonna use it anyway, Incubus!Inigo, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Pheromones, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Silks and Jewels, Smut, Someone made me love Tan Inigo, Tan Inigo, magic tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 16:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16706101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherStory/pseuds/AnotherStory
Summary: Xander returns to his room late one night to discover an expected visitor awaiting him.He does not think to ask questions.





	To Crave

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes I'm a thirsty hoe that's my only excuse for this self-indulgent mess

Xander heaved a sigh of relief as he finally entered his bedroom. He pushed the weighted door closed with both hands and silently reveled in locking it for the night. He rested his forehead against the wood as he pulled the cravat from around his throat and threw unceremoniously to the side. The shifting of fabric behind him caught his attention, and a low hum in a tone he recognized.

"Good evening, milord," Laslow greeted him, and whatever Xander had been expecting to see when he turned around, this was not it. The air came rushing out of his lungs all at once as his mind began to process the image laid before him. It wasn't uncommon to find Laslow in his room, he often cleaned or dropped off little gifts, but never like this. Definitely never like this.

Laslow, or at least someone who looked very much like his retainer, was watching him with heavy eyes that swam with desire, draped languidly over the smooth duvet of his bed. His back was arched upward as he worked two fingers inside his own entrance without a single hint of shame. His dark skin was bare to the world in all its perfect imperfections save a wisp of burgundy silk tied loosely about his waist to save a small amount of dignity, and Xander's eyes were drawn to what appeared to be intricate, exotic tattoos curving over the smooth plumpness of his upper thighs, followed quickly by an interest in the glint of gold flickering in the low rosy candlelight.

The jewelry decorating the body on display in front of him was extravagant and strangely erotic in a way he couldn't quite explain. Bangles clinked gently on Laslow's wrists and ankles; bands of gold wrapped snugly over his biceps. A narrow circlet rested upon his brow and a golden collar about his throat, both dripping with thin gold chains. And each and every piece was studded with rubies that fractured the light and dances as spots of flame lapping at his skin. He didn't look human; he looked deified, radiant, and Xander was abruptly finding it very hard to breath without being enveloped in a powerfully sweet scent that had not been there moments before.

"Finally," Laslow continued, drawing his fingers from within himself and lapping at the digits with a soft wet tongue, letting beads of saliva fall upon his bare chest. He relaxed back into the bed and raised his other hand in Xander's direction, beckoning him forward with a coy curling of his finger, over and over in a hypnotic rhythm. "I've been quite lonely waiting for you, my King. You take so long and I get so needy..."

There was something inherently wrong about the way his body lurched to obey the call. The prince set his jaw- he was not yet crowned, he reminded himself, so why did it sound so pleasant to hear such a title falling from full lips?- and let out a soft grunt as his mind went momentarily blank. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, yet he couldn't say he found himself truly dizzy. It was an odd state, to be unable to think and have a clear head at once. "Las-."

The alluring figure who looked like his retainer clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Not tonight, Your Grace. My name is Inigo, here when there is nothing between us." A little teasing smile, slow in it's growth and equally as sensual, began as his face, as though he were proud of a joke Xander was not privy to. "Say it for me."

"Inigo," Xander repeated dutifully without a second thought. It sounded different in his mouth, sharper, but no less foreign. An accented slurring of vowels that formed a name for this otherworldly being watching him. His pronunciation was off in comparison to Inigo's own, but he received an aroused rumble in the back of Inigo's throat as a reward.

The figure- this Inigo, dangerous and graceful- pulled himself into a sitting position, elegant legs curled to one side. "Good boy," he cooed, and Xander is mortified at the rush of pride the praise gave him.

Jewels chimed as he rose gingerly to his feet and slunk toward Xander with chocolate eyes like a wildcat's on it's prey. Xander was prey, and helpless before the sway of Inigo's hips. Inigo's slim fingers dragged upward over his sharp jawline and delicate arms draped loosely over his shoulders. His body, warm and perfumed with the smell of honey and spices, pressed against his chest. "I'm so very _hungry_ ," A thigh settled itself teasingly between his legs and Xander gasped. "Won't you help me, my King?"

He was so close. He was close enough to kiss, if he wished, and Xander was more than curious for a taste of those soft lips, but all he found himself able to do was nod childishly. A knot of nervous anticipation had lodged in his throat, and he had lost all logic and reasoning the moment he let his eyes linger on Inigo's bare skin. Then he was backing away, and there was a rush of air that came to fill the space between them, so cold when compared with what he had just been close to that it drew a shiver from him. Inigo turned his back and glided back to the bed. Xander found his eyes following the path of another complex tattoo from his nape to below the small of his back where he was given a glimpse of a heart-shaped rear. He swallowed thickly.

Dark nimble fingers tugged the cord tied around his waist undone, and Inigo allowed the silk to fall. Streaks of oil glistened upon his inner thighs, a sign of his activities before the arrival of the prince. He fell back upon the bed and let his legs fall apart with a grace only he could manage, offering a view of his length sitting hard and heavy and leaking on his abdomen. This time, when Inigo flashed him that naughty little smile and opened his arms to welcome him into his embrace, Xander found himself with the hazy realization that he no longer wanted to hesitate. "Come to me, Your Grace."

Xander listened to him.

He crawled up beside Inigo on his bed, and put up no fight as Inigo maneuvered him onto his back and threw a leg over his waist. Some small semi-conscious part of his mind that remained to him was hyper aware of his retainer (was it his retainer? Could it possibly be?) straddling him with practiced ease, rocking slow and easy over Xander's crotch. Part of him realized this was horribly, impossibly wrong, but his brain felt so sluggish that he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it.

He was realizing a number of things, Xander noticed, like how he was hardening steadily under Inigo's circling motions. The prince released the tiniest whine, gritting his teeth. "Laslow...Inigo. Why are you doing this?" Why does it feel so good? he wanted to ask.

"Hush, my King." Inigo lowered himself down on top of him, leaning close. Hot breath ghosted Xander's jaw. It earned Inigo a shiver, and his smile widened. "Poor thing...You must be exhausted. Let me take care of you tonight, Your Grace. I'll make you forget all about your troubles. Until all you can remember is my name..." He leaned in and sealed their mouths together in a simple fluid motion.

The kiss was a spark. Fire roared to life in his veins, and Xander couldn't think about right or wrong or need and want anymore. They melded together smoothly, lips fitting like lock and key. Inigo, he found, tasted just as sweet as he looked and smelled. It was intoxicating, the way Inigo purred low and pleased into his mouth, and a wave of syrupy arousal travelled down his spine to make him throb between the legs. He leans into it, tries to follow Inigo's lips when the lithe man pulled away.

Inigo pressed his palms down on the prince's shoulders to hold him down against the bed. He sat back on his knees, balanced over Xander's thighs. Slowly his tongue traced over his bottom lip before they pursed into a line. A exploratory touch drifted over the hammering pulse in Xander's neck and caressed his flushed cheeks. The sweet scent that clogged his mind began to dissipate.

As breathing became easier and his mind slowly sorted out the recent series of events, Xander's body went entirely still. For a moment, a single fleeting moment, he could swear he saw a hint of his dutiful retainer in the lusty mahogany eyes of this alluring demon with Laslow's face. He was no longer under any spell. He had control of his body again, and he flexed his fingers to prove that point to himself. "Why did you stop?" he heard, and it takes him a moment to realize that it's his own voice.

"I've never had anyone ask that after I stop the scent. I was merely seeing if you would make the decision to leave my bed as well," Inigo replied dismissively in a voice still confident and dripping with sex. There is a tension to the way he smiles now, the same fake smile that Laslow had thrown his way a million times before. Xander is clearheaded enough now to hear the meaning behind what would otherwise be an offhand comment. _This is your chance to refuse me_.

"I suppose I'll surprise you, then." Perhaps, in the future, he would find he would regret this decision. For now Xander doesn't want to think. Not when he could feel. Xander sat up until they are chest to chest and peered down into Inigo's slightly startled expression. His large hands gripped Inigo's hips just a little too roughly and yanked him flush against him. His heart missed a beat when he is rewarded with a soft moan. "We're in my bed, actually, so there's no point to me leaving, is there?"

Inigo appears nearly gleeful as he throws himself into the kiss Xander initiates, pretty pink tongue sweeping across Xander's teeth, and logic wants him to be disgusted with such a display. Instead all Xander can imagine is having that tongue in other places doing other things. Just this once, he promised himself, just for tonight, he would indulge in this unexpected turn of events. He had questions, Gods knew he had questions, but those could wait. They could wait, dammit.

Long fingers curled into his hair, tugging playfully, and he moaned in surprise. "Do you like that?" Inigo whispered into his mouth, and he murmured some vague affirmation that he forgot as soon as it was spoken. He was panting when Inigo's hot mouth found his jaw, then his throat, sucking hard against his pale skin and no doubt leaving a dark bruise he would have to cover.

Lips became teeth, worrying gentle at his pulse. His nails dug into Inigo's hips to leave half-moon indents. Apologies would have been made if only Inigo hadn't moaned and squirmed against him. "Inigo," he breaths, curious despite himself, "what are you?"

The smile he is graced with isn't anything less than endearing, just the right amount of lopsided to bring the mischief out in his eyes, twinkling in a way that sent a flush crawling farther up Xander's face. "My homeland called me an incubus, I believe. I do not know what name Nohr has for me. I prefer to call myself an experience."

"An experience, certainly," Xander agreed breathlessly, recalling the jolt of shock that had coursed through him when he had first set eyes on the beauty in his bed; an electricity that still lingered in his bones. Inigo's teeth scraped over his Adam's apple and little by little he began to pop the buttons open on Xander's fitted silk vest. The offending piece of clothing slipped over and off his shoulders, and his dress shirt soon came loose to follow.

Lush thighs closed over the prince's hips. Inigo teased, "You seem to be enjoying yourself." To prove a point he pressed his plump rear down upon Xander's clothed cock, and arched an eyebrow cheekily at what he felt, nipping at Xander's jaw. "I am here for your pleasure, Your Grace. Touch me as you see fit."

Xander could only nod. He placed his hands lightly upon the hazelnut skin of his chest. "Will you make that scent return again?"

"Do you want me to?" Inigo responded in kind, still circling his hips down against him.

"No," the prince replied just a little too fast for his own liking. "I...I want to know what I'm- what we're doing. Please."

Inigo is silent for a long moment, breathing in slowly through his nose. "Touch me, sweet King." The grip returned to his hair, harsher in it's force, and this time when Inigo kissed him in was borderline sloppy. Entirely made of tongue and teeth, in fact, and Xander thoroughly enjoyed it.

He let the ethereal creature guide him back down amidst the plush sheets, his face lingering continually close enough to allow for their lips to brush but never quite enough to be satisfying. With permission now granted, Xander ran calloused palms over the smooth freckled skin of Inigo's curves and marveled as how the sleek powerful muscles beneath trembled with restraint. In their first duel, Laslow had very nearly bested him, and Xander knew then that he was deceptively strong. The body he was exploring was so familiar, yet at the same time was that of a complete stranger. The Laslow he knew was always considerate and dutiful, while this Inigo was decidedly more spice than sugar...but Inigo was the closest he could be to achieving his fantasies.

Hot kisses marked their way down his chest, and somewhere along the way he shucked off his shirt. He couldn't remember where in the room it had landed. Xander made a little sigh that seemed to please Inigo greatly, if the chuckle against the centre of his core was any indication. Sharp canines tested the pale skin around his navel, and his stomach sucked in from the burst of apprehension. Inigo might have laughed, Xander could see mirth in his lustful expression, but he busied himself by sinking those canines into the tender dip of the prince's exposed hipbone.

The pain gave Xander pause. He slid his fingers through soft chocolate hair and held on just tightly enough to still Inigo's movements. He met the curious, questioning stare with one of his own. "What did you plan to do to me?" He found his voice rising no higher than a rasp, as though somehow this plane of reality would shatter if he dared to speak at a normal volume.

"What do you want me to do to you?" Inigo asked back in an equally soft voice. "I am here to indulge your every desire, my King."

Xander, for possibly the first time since he was a child, could not fathom what to say in return. He exhaled and threw an arm across his face to spare whatever dignity remained to him and hide the redness tinting his cheeks. "I know very little of what I would enjoy," he admitted, "so I shall choose to put my trust in you, if you wouldn't mind."

"Are you a maid?" came the inevitable teasing. The incubus sucked lightly on the mark he'd left emblazoned on Xander's hip, and his heart seized with the realization of just how close his face was to a most intimate area. "Normally I try to avoid virgins," he continued, "but I've been starving myself for far too long, and there's only so much one can do when one's perferred target is a constant factor in their lives." He, for better or for worse, showed no judgement of Xander's lack of experience.

A gasp tore it's way out of him as Inigo finally- finally- pressed his open mouth over the clothed bulge in his pants, lapping at it in heavy, needy licks. Xander caught his lower lip between his teeth to muffle a low groan. His body shifted eagerly under the new wave of heat that pulsed through him. If it wasn't obvious that he'd never lain with another person before, it certainly was now. The clink of his belt caught his attention, and he tried almost desperately to focus on any other object in the room that isn't Inigo's head between his legs.

The laces of his pants were tugged loose with nothing but teeth, and it was clear that he could feel Xander throbbing because he chuckled against his bulge. Xander's knuckles went white from gripping the duvet so roughly. He vague wondered if he had torn it.

"May I have a taste of you, sweet King?" Inigo purred, the sound reverberating through Xander's thighs and making his gut twist with a hot stab of arousal. Xander stopped wondering about anything at all as he nodded assent.

With that, the incubus tugged eagerly at his remaining garments, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. Soon enough Xander found himself bare and hard beneath Inigo's piercing gaze. The way he licked his lips made him feel like he was a treat for the creature. Long fingers wasted no time wrapping around his rigid cock and stroking in firm, confident motions. Xander's breath grew laboured. He rolled his hips up into the grip, the last shred of his pride forgotten.

His eyes had just begun to droop from the overwhelming sensation of pleasure sparking through his every nerve when something hot and wet joined the assault on his senses. He cracked one eye open, and immediately squeezed it shut again. Inigo was lapping at his length, mouthing sloppily around the base as his fingers spread precum across his flushed tip.

There was a vibrating purr over his tender flesh, and he groaned lowly. Inigo licked a long strip up the side of his shaft, pressing his tongue to Xander's slit. Lips closed around the head of his cock and suckled, gazing up at Xander's face from beneath his lashes. Inch by inch he sunk down, agonizingly slow, until the prince could feel the muscles of Inigo's tight throat rippling around him as the incubus swallowed. It was all Xander could do to keep from crying out. No one had ever touched him like this, it felt amazing, and some savage part of him wanted to force Inigo's head down to get more.

He made a low noise that rose up through his chest and sounded inhuman to his own ears. His thighs trembled as Inigo slowly pulled off of him, leaving his slick shaft to chill in the open air. Then his back arched abruptly when Inigo plunged down again. He could feel the way the incubus's lips curved upward around him. Inigo started a slow rhythm, consisting mainly of clenching his tight throat and sucking mercilessly around him, occasionally the lightest scrape of pointed teeth to make his body jolt.

When Inigo moaned, loud and obscene around the length he drooled on, the heat in Xander's belly spiked. _Already_...he thought shamefully, propping himself up to tug at Inigo's pink hair, soft as silk. "Y-You need to stop or...I-I'm-!" All the breath came out of his lungs at once in the form of a wheezy cry. Inigo hollowed his cheeks and ignored him, taking him all the way to hilt and humming like he couldn't get enough. Xander couldn't take it. He came with a grunt, a whisper of the creature's name as his body sagged, and watched with hazy rapture as the incubus greedily swallowed his seed without an ounce of hesitation.

With a playful grin, Inigo pulled back and let his jaw unhinge to showcase the white streaks left upon his tongue. He licked his lips and bent forward to press their mouths together. Xander could taste himself, bitter and salty, but he arched into it all the same. "Didn't last long, sweet King," Inigo purred, nuzzling his jaw. "But you did so very well for me, didn't you?"

Xander could only pant in response, flushed with the lingering glow of his orgasm and the underlying pride in his partner's voice. A shaking hand gripped Inigo by the hip, trying to jerk him closer. Arching a curious eyebrow, much to the prince's embarrassment, Inigo humoured him and slipped gracefully back into his lap with thighs spread wide. Before he could chicken out, Xander took Inigo's remaining hardness in hand and gave it a clumsy stroke.

"Oh..." That sweet scent wafted faintly in the air again. Inigo rocked back against his sensitive cock, drawing out a stuttered gasp. "You want to return the favour? How generous of you, Your Grace. My scent would help you," he paused, musing, "get your second wind, if you would allow me."

He refused with a loose shake of his head. "Don't want to not know what I'm doing," he explained, though even without what he now assumed to an aphrodisiac in this system he found himself slurring. His ministrations slowly grew more confident. He pressed his thumb to Inigo's wet tip experimentally, eyes widening as Inigo bucked into his grip. He set a hand on the incubus's thigh to steady him, the pads of fingers rubbing over the intricate details of the dark etching on tan skin.

The last thing he expected was for the patterns to flare to life in the form of a rose-gold glow beneath his palm. Inigo tossed his head back jerkily, hips stuttering, and those he didn't make any audible sounds Xander was still given a clear view of how his eyes rolled back. The prince's thoughts sank into a murky state of desire as the thick sweetness invaded his senses. He opened his mouth to offer up a weak protest, but Inigo cut him off.

"Oh," Inigo murmured, breathing in an oddly rapid rhythm. "Can't...keep control over it when you do that..." He placed a trembling hand over Xander's. "These marks are...sensitive."

"Sensitive?" he echoed absently. Perhaps it was a sense of revenge or childish curiousity, but Xander was immediately stricken with the urge to see exactly what that meant. Slowly moving one hand over the incubus's cock, he dug the fingers of his free hand into the inkings, watching them shine in the most intoxicating shade.

Inigo _wailed_.

There was a beat before Inigo belatedly clapped a hand over his mouth. His cheeks flushed with shame, and for the first time that night the incubus refused to meet Xander's eyes. Was he actually getting shy now, like Laslow would? How...cute. With the softest whimper, eyes squeezed shut, Inigo rocked into his hand, and Xander obliged him by allowing him to rut while he massaged the newly discovered weakpoints of his legs.

It barely takes a minute. Inigo offered up his name like a prayer as he hit his climax, spilling heavy and hot across Xander's bare chest with hurried cries of "Oh, yes, yes, please, yes...". The scent grew suffocating, and Xander felt the strength seep from from his muscles as Inigo rides his orgasm out for what seems to be an impossibly long time to his clouded brain.

Inigo moaned deliriously. "Not," he gasped, lowering himself onto Xander's chest, no doubt making a mess, "how I expected this night to go...but I have been rather pent up, and without my scent it's hard to get the full effect." He didn't seem eager to move off of him, and Xander found himself not especially eager to move him. The metal of his adornments were deliciously cool on Xander's heated flesh, and a warm body was comforting as he tried to recover.

"Inigo," he rasped, letting his eyes drift to half-mast as he struggled to form a sentence.

Inigo shifted to look up at him, smiling in a way that hid the equal parts mischief and guilt in his eyes. He still looked more than awake. "You must have questions, sweet King. Go ahead, while you're still conscious. I'll answer anything I can."

"Are you Laslow?" Xander slurred. His vision was going blurry, and he couldn't help but vaguely wonder why he was so exhausted after so little. Why had he done this? How long had they laid together? He could not recall.

Inigo hummed as though he were mulling over the question. Or perhaps he was stalling. "Laslow is the side of me you know. It is me. None of Laslow is fake. But my real name is Inigo, and this is the side of me that comes out when I must feed...not that you'll remember it, most likely."

Xander's sight is growing dark around the edges. He felt compelled to sleep, to pass out with Inigo tucked comfortably against him. He managed to gesture, very weakly, between their tangled forms. "What...was this?"

"This," Inigo purred, placing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth as Xander went limp, "was only the beginning, my King."


End file.
